


Play it Again, Sam

by Keye



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-22
Updated: 2010-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-06 13:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keye/pseuds/Keye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During filming in New Zealand, Sean feels lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play it Again, Sam

Samwise Gamgee was a fine fellow, loyal and stout hearted, simple and true. Sean loved the little hobbit, loved getting under his skin and walking his walk. It was an unforeseen opportunity for him to look for the better things in himself and nurture them. Sam was his role of a lifetime. New Zealand was a dream. New opportunities and new friends. It should all have been right and good. So why did he wake in a panic at 3am, again and again?

Sam was nowhere to be found that morning, and the panic was hard to shake. It felt for long minutes as if he couldn't breathe, his heart hammering in his chest. He sat hugging himself, rocking a little, trying to find some ease. There was nothing wrong with his heart. The doc had told him so, again, only days ago. It was stress, just stress. Chris could have calmed it with sensible words and warm kisses, would have told him he was just working too hard, just taking everything too seriously. Simply holding his baby girl in his arms would have made it all bearable for a little longer. But Chris and Ally were home for the month and he was all alone, with Elijah. He direly wished it was late enough to call Elijah.

Sean forced himself from the bed at last and into a hot shower, as hot as he could bear it. Standing there limp and shaking in the steamy spray, the panic slowly subsided, and he was left feeling numb, in body and mind. He couldn't have said at that moment where they were, some hotel in some place far from home. He couldn't say what was on the schedule, only knew that the day ahead would be long and hard, and he needed to find Sam or he'd never get through it.

Shivering in the chill, he dried and shaved and brushed his teeth. The place was shut up tight with the air conditioning on, because he couldn't take the heat in this body. Sam's body, not his. But not Sam's either. He'd read the books. Nowhere did it say Sam was any fatter than any other hobbit. After what they'd been through by the end of the quest, they would have been skin and bone regardless how they started, both of them. It was personal for Peter, wanting to show the world that fat guys can be heroes too. Peter was getting what he wanted, and Sean wasn't getting paid enough for what it was doing to him.

The brain engaged and was off and running, worrying over the money and what a disappointment it would be for Chris if they lost the house, worrying that he might fail in this job. He knew where they were, filming the Emyn Muil scenes on the side of a volcano. He knew what was on the schedule, the laaambas scene. He'd spent over an hour with the coaches the night before, after a twelve hour shooting day, trying to get it right. The accent continued to trip him up, and Peter seemed resigned. They said that ninety-five percent of viewers wouldn't even notice, wouldn't have any idea how much he struggled with it. But he hated that his best wasn't good enough. And he couldn't help wondering if those five percent would call him a failure.

Feeling the full weight of what he'd gotten himself into, Sean sank to the edge of the bed at last with phone in hand. It was a quarter to four. At home, it was 8:45am, yesterday. He could call Chris and whine. She wouldn't mind, even though he'd just called her the night before, late. It wasn't fair of him. She'd earned this break from the craziness, from his craziness. He slipped the phone into his pocket. Elijah would be asleep, sensibly, with an hour yet before he had to be up. Sean wouldn't have called him anyway. His room was just down across the corridor, and Sean had a key, as Elijah had a key to his. Sean couldn't remember whose idea that had been, but it was a good one. It somehow made him feel safer.

It was warm in the hall. It was quiet too, the corridor empty, anyone with sense still in bed. Sean walked as softly as he could, pausing at Elijah's door. He fingered the key in his pocket, thinking he could sit quietly in the dark and just wait for Elijah to wake, but that was a big step over the line and he knew it. He pushed himself on, down to the mostly deserted lobby and directly to the street doors, with little more than a polite nod to the woman on the front desk.

To his surprise, it was almost cool outside, with a fresh breeze off the mountains. He took a deep breath, sweeping a gaze over the velvet black, star-studded sky, then stepped away from the lights and started walking. He had no particular destination in mind, just needed to be moving, needed to calm down and order his thoughts. Sam and this frantic state he more and more often found himself in couldn't inhabit the same space.

It had been easy at first, putting on the costume and becoming Sam. He'd been in the thick of it, reading everything he could get hold of on his subject, and he'd reached a point where he could step into the part almost on call. But they were long months into the shoot with no end in sight, and he was finding it harder and harder. Now, when it should be as easy as shrugging into a comfortable old sweater, he more often than not found himself out of touch with his character, on his own.

Stumbling to a halt, he stood where he was and took several slow, deep breaths, trying to empty his head. It was like a flooded warehouse in there, floating with junk, large items and insignificant ones all banging and cracking into each other. Sam wouldn't be moping around worrying about the price of taters. They were in deadly peril, every minute of every day, under impossible conditions. Sam would be thinking of his Mister Frodo.

Inevitably, Sean's mind turned to Elijah. Unlikely as it seemed, Elijah had become his rock. It wasn't how they'd started. Anchor was almost always Sean's position. He'd met very few people in his life that he felt comfortable leaning on. Elijah was one. Elijah, who was like no one he'd ever known, complex and inscrutable, an old soul in the guise of a boy. That Sean loved Elijah couldn't be disputed. That he'd begun to love Elijah in ways he had no sense doing was unraveling his perceptions of what was right and wrong. That he suspected Elijah might be feeling those things too had Sean constantly on guard, wanting to be near him and disturbed by his nearness all at once.

An abrupt vibrating of the phone in his pocket jarred him from that reverie, and he found himself just standing there, listening to the sound of the river rushing by in its rocky bed. He pulled his phone out and lit the display. It was Elijah. With a flutter of anticipation, and a pang of unease, he took the call. "Hey."

"Sean, where are you?"

"Out. Walking."

There was silence from the other end, then a plaintive sigh. "You weren't here to turn off my alarm."

Sean had been doing that the last few mornings, slipping in at a quarter to five to turn off the alarm and give Elijah a more gentle wake-up. Elijah had groused about the fucking thing jangling his nerves first thing every morning, and Sean was awake anyway, needing company.

"You okay?"

Not really, but Sean shrugged it off as best he could. "Sure." He knew Elijah wasn't fooled. Sean had unloaded on him enough in the last few weeks to ensure that. "Lij, it's all right, really. I'm just looking for Sam. He's deserted me again."

Elijah sounded disappointed in him. "Why didn't you wake me up? I can help you with it, Sean."

Sean knew he would try, even if he was wrestling with problems of his own. Sean sadly shook his head. "Doesn't matter, Lijah. I'm just being paranoid." It was dark and starry still, with no hint of morning. "What time you got?"

"Ten minutes to feet. You'd better get back here. Where are you?"

Sean glanced quickly around him. It looked like downtown, sort of. "I'm near the river. I'll just follow it back."

Elijah said, "I'll meet you," and was gone.

Feeling like the pain in the butt he was, Sean thrust the phone into his pocket and headed back. True to his word, Elijah met him halfway, bundled into an oversized hoodie with his sneaker laces loose and flapping. They came together like attracting magnets that get too close. Elijah fell into step at his side and Sean wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

Elijah shivered and grumped. "I haven't even had coffee. You're falling down on the job, mister."

Sean felt himself smile, felt his muscles relax and his mind focus. Having Elijah beside him spread a warm blanket of calm and comfort over him. If only he could absorb that feeling into his core.

Elijah nudged him in the ribs. "What have you got in your pack, Sam?" He could fall into the accent like that and get it right every time.

Sean felt clumsy and tongue-tied. He tried. "Laaambas, Mister Frodo. And more laaaaaaambas."

Elijah giggled. "Perfect."

Sean sighed. "I'm hopeless."

Elijah frowned at him. "Stop it." He meant it too. His arm came around Sean's waist. "Nothing ever darkens your spirit, does it, Sam?"

For a scary moment, Sean felt the panic rising. Elijah halted and stood looking mournfully at him, wanting to help. Sean beat it back and got his breath. "That's it, you know? I can't make that believable. I'm not Sam Gamgee. I'm just a guy who wants to go home."

Elijah wrapped both arms around him and hugged him tight.

Sean had to blink back a sudden welling of hot tears. For all that it seemed to be just what he wanted, he still had to fight it, on the inside. On the outside, he held Elijah close, and didn't know if he could let go.

"It isn't forever, Sean. It's gonna be over and then you'll wish it wasn't, just like I will."

Sean helplessly nodded. "I know."

"You need to stop counting off the days and take them one at a time. We've got a break coming in just a couple of months. If you have to look ahead, that's far enough. Right?"

Sean felt their hearts beating in time and his swelled with a deep and profound tenderness for Elijah, radiating from his center to the very tips of his fingers. Sam was right there, like he'd never left. Steady, practical Sam, loving his Frodo to the ends of Middle Earth. Sean took in a shaky breath. "You're right, Lijah, I know."

Elijah trembled in his arms, not because he was cold, Sean didn't think. He felt it, felt all of Elijah's lithe and willing body pressed against his. It was as wrong as it was right, but the scales were tipping. And he was worn out with fighting it. Elijah rubbed and patted his back, not awkwardly, Elijah could never be awkward, but tentatively. Elijah offered, but wouldn't ask. Elijah guided, but ultimately left it up to him. "You can't control everything, Sean."

Sean was still learning that. Elijah was teaching him.

"Sometimes, you have to just let things happen."

Sean felt the breathless yearning in those words. Elijah loved him too. How could he possibly deny something so precious? He couldn't. "Okay."

Elijah leaned back to look at him, the starlight dancing in his eyes. "Okay?"

Was Sean ready to just let it happen? His heart was beating double time, keeping up with Elijah's. Elijah leaned close again, lips softly parted on a hopeful breath, and Sean kissed him, a kiss that was warm and longing and filled with promise. For bad or good, he was ready to step onto this path and let it take him where it would. Sam beamed like a torch inside him.

Elijah hugged him fiercely and then stepped back, flushed like a newly bloomed rose, smiling, happy. "We've got work, and we're late."

Sean put an arm around him once more as they started walking, grinning like a fool. "Yeah."

Sam was eager to get back to his Frodo.


End file.
